Witnessing It
by AndThatWasEnough
Summary: It was the winter of Shakespeare and Bob Dylan. Of Simon and Garfunkel at three a.m. Of mailmen and Vietnam. And of figuring out what the next step was. Sequel to 'Don't Think Twice.'
1. As You Like It

**Author's Note: Hey all! This is 'Witnessing It,' the sequel to 'Don't Think Twice.' It helps, but is not crucial, to read that before you read this. Make sure to read the AN at the end of the chapter for additional info. **

**I'm so excited to get the ball rolling again! Here we go...**

**Disclaimer: Hinton owns. I'm just playing with them. I also don't own anything by The Doors, Shakespeare, or Simon and Garfunkel. **

**Happy reading. :)**

XXXXX

_"I like this_ _place and willingly could waste my time in it" - William Shakespeare, As You Like It_

XXXXX

_June Fifteenth, 1968_

I've been told I'm a pretty good storyteller. Maybe it's because people think I'm funny, I dunno. It's unfortunate that Miz Bridget Stevens took the story that I myself wanted to tell, and has since left me with nothing. Nothing! The past year has been underwhelming, five-hundred percent boring outside of our relationship. In fact, all we're doing right now is sitting on my back porch, not doing much of anything. Bee looks beautiful, I'll give her that. She kinda looks like Elaine Robinson in pedal pushers and one of those shirts with the big prints on it that girls seem to like. I wouldn't know so well. My ma don't dress like her, and my sister is too young.

"Let's go dancin," I said suddenly. "C'mon, can't I take my woman dancin?"

Bridget shook her head. "No, you can't."

"I think I can. The night is still young!" I cried. "You expect me to want to shack up for the night, when I have something to show off?"

Shacking up actually didn't sound like such a bad idea. But I hate when she's resistant. It's been one year since we've gotten together, and she won't do nothing with me. Besides, I wanna celebrate. We just graduated, she's got her scholarship... We should be out! I don't wanna hang around my place.

"Maybe I just wanna be with you," she said. "Maybe I don't want to be with anyone else."

"Oh," I drawled. "Just you an' me, huh?"

"Just you and me."

I didn't know about that. There were plenty of things to do. We could go to the Curtis'; since they'd all formally met each other, Bee and the boys got on pretty fine. I mean, Steve brings Evie around all the time, and the rest of us don't mind.

"Why're you so dead-set in bein alonetonight?" I asked. Bridget looked at me, and her eyes had this spark in them that I hadn't noticed before.

"Why don't you think real hard," she said softly.

So I thought. I thought for a damn long time. I just didn't always get her, ya know? Sometimes, Bridget is just all over the map, hard to pinpoint. We've had a real time together and I love her and all, but hell. She's a difficult one. I mean, just this past May, she was hell-bent on winning prom queen, and what she wants she gets. I didn't mind so much, I just didn't see the point.

I looked over at her. She was facing the backyard so all I could see was her profile. It was a good profile; I could see her lashes curling up, the side of her cute nose, good cheekbones, the curve of full lips. A lotta guys thought she was a real catch. I mean, she wasn't a Grace Kelly or Anne Bancroft or even a Kathy, but I thought she was beautiful. Maybe more like a Katharine Ross sort of beautiful. So of course people voted for her to be prom queen.

"Have you figured it out yet?" Bridget asked. Her face looked almost pained. Like it pained her to wait on me.

"Why don't you just tell me," I suggested. Bridget turned pink.

"Oh, I couldn't say it," she said miserably. "I just couldn't."

I shrugged. "Sure you could. It can't be that embarrassing."

"Well, no, it's not," she agreed. "It's just a very... Intimate thing, that I feel funny talking about."

I smiled real big. I knew what she was getting at.

"You're talking about sex." I said it more as a statement and not a question. Kinda teasing. Bee nodded her head.

"Yeah, I am," Bee sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"Well, what about it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why're you thinking about sex?"

She looked over at me, clearly exasperated. "You do know I'm a virgin, don't you?"

No. "Yes."

"And that I love you."

That I do know. "Yes, I know that. I love you, too, Miz Bee." She ducked her head and smiled. I inched closer to her.

"Two-Bit," she breathed. "I think what I'm getting at... You know..."

She cut her eyes to me. "Don't make me say it, asshole."

I laughed, shaking my head at her. "I get the message. But why bring it up? It's not like I wasn't planning on doing it anyways."

She sighed. "It's complicated, Two-Bit."

"Or do you mean I won't get it?"

Bee shook her head. "No, not what I'm saying. I'm afraid that... If we don't do it... I don't want to do it with anyone else. That's all."

So she thought sex would keep her faithful. In my experience, that hadn't worked so well for me. Hell, I was still technically going with Kathy until just a couple months ago. I think Bridget has better self-control than I do, though.

"You're tyin yourself to me forever then," I sighed, trying to tease her. She nudged her knee against mine.

"Good. I'm glad I'm your girl, Two-Bit."

I grinned. Honest? I didn't really know why she wanted to go with me, but I've just spent the best year of my life with this gal. She was exactly what I needed, this dark-haired girl that pulled me out of the funk I'd been in. She was like a mother kissing all the scraped knees when you're hurt, but this was better. This was a girl that kissed me because she wants to, because she loved me. It felt good to hear someone besides my mother say something like that. It was all a nice little accident. I remember what I told Darry:

_"What did you do?" Darry asked. _

_"I fell in love with a girl, I think."_

Which is pretty accurate. I think, therefore I am. Or- wait. I think, therefore it is. Well, either way, I'm gettin at that I love her.

"You'll always be my girl, won't you?" I asked, hoping I already knew what her answer would be.

"I'll always be your girl," she whispered.

And then I kissed her hard, glad she was here with me. I don't exactly know what's gonna happen. I would miss her. I had to stay here, but she could run away, go on and do something she loves. So I kissed her. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, I don't know how the rest of this summer will turn out, and I sure as hell don't know what I'll do the rest of the year once she's gone. All I know is that she's unbuttoning my shirt, and that I'm gonna have one helluva story to tell the boys.

XXXXX

_November, 1968_

I don't know how the hell I got to be standing outside in just a pair of jeans with a blanket wrapped around my shoulders, but here I was. Staring down the mailman because his bag better not have what it definitely could have. I think I might be freaking him out a bit. Just a bit, ya know. Enough that I don't think he really likes coming by our house anymore. His loss, I s'pose.

"Anything for me?" I finally ask. He shakes his head slowly.

"No son, there ain't."

"Damn straight."

It's been the same routine ever since Sodapop left. He got that letter, thick card stock stamped with the seal of the United States Army, two weeks after his eighteenth birthday. Steve wanted to follow after him, but they said nosirreebub, you ain't healthy enough, and stamped a 4F on his file and sent him on his way. No getting to play hero for him. The army decided it was Sodapop's time to shine.

Unfortunately for me, I ain't sick enough to stay home, so I figure a letter from the draft board will be coming any day now. That's why I've been sitting out here every day when the mail comes. I want to be the first to know. Not my mama. Not my sister. Me. I guess the mailman would know, but why should he care?

"You have a good day now, son," he says to me, sounding positively chipper. I nod.

"You too."

I watch him walk off towards the next house. I actually used to like getting mail. Me getting mail means one of two things: My girl has written me, or I'm off to Vietnam. So far, it's just been the first. In that case, I'm practically kissing the mailman I'm so happy. But I haven't gotten a letter from her in a week, which is discouraging.

To say the least, I've been in a pretty sour mood lately. To top it all off, the weather's been positively lousy for awhile now. It's probably not my best idea to be standing outside half naked, but I'm really too hungover to care. Mom'll probably scold me about it some, but dammit I'm twenty years old. If I want to stand around outside in the middle of November half naked, then so be it.

I head back inside because it really is too cold out to just stand out there and not be doing anything. Pony runs in this weather all the time, loves to do it even. But I ain't exactly the running type, so heading inside sounded like a good plan. My little sister Sadie is sitting on the couch in the living room doing homework. I don't see why teachers would be giving her homework over the weekend, but she's not one to complain. That's probably why she doesn't get in trouble too much. I sat down next to her and watched her do math problems. Three-hundred and five plus one-hundred and six. Five plus six is eleven. Carry the one. Zero and zero and one make one. Three plus one is four. The answer is four-hundred and eleven. Good girl. Make sure you circle it! The teacher doesn't want to work too hard to find your answer.

"Keith, why're you watching me?" She asks without looking up.

"Because the TV ain't workin."

"Yes it is."

"Well, there ain't anything good on, so it's as good as."

Sadie nods. I watch her some more.

"Did you get any mail today?"

"Nup. Nothing."

Sadie knows what I do. She knows I sit out on the porch swing and wait for the mailman everyday, but I don't know if she knows what for. For me, it's a death sentence. To her... I dunno. Maybe she just thinks I want to get some mail. Or chase the mailman, and I'm just waiting for the perfect opportunity. I don't think that would surprise her either. Not a whole lot does.

I like to think that Sadie and I get on real well. She's my little girl, in a sense. Dad-excuse me, Alex-didn't leave too long after she was born, and I kinda took it upon myself to keep an eye out for her. Mom certainly looks after her, but I'm the man in the house. I'm gonna be the one who interrogates her dates and walks her down the aisle and all the stuff a dad is supposed to do.

But he isn't here.

Honestly, I think Sadie thinks I'm a bit annoying, but these days, who doesn't?

"What're you gonna do today, hun?" I ask her, trying to get my mind off my inevitable fate. Sadie shrugged.

"I dunno. What're you gonna do?"

What was I gonna do? Go see the guys, probably. Not much else to do. No fights. No school. No Bridget to keep me entertained. The two of us used to do all sorts of things together, things I'd never done with another gal before. Maybe because she forced me to do things with her, I dunno. It's just that before I met her, I wasn't someone who would sneak into a girl's room just to listen to Bob Dylan and do dramatic readings of Shakespearean plays. Now, I am.

"I dunno," I finally answered.

"Maybe you should go to your job now. So you can get an apartment."

I made a face. I worked down at Pendleton's, the big grocery store here in town. Wade Pendleton was a good guy, and his wife was a real nice lady and all, but that didn't mean I liked stocking their back room.

"So I guess that means you want me to move out, then?" I asked. Sadie rolled her eyes.

"Well, I guess. I mean, you're too old to be living with me and mama anymore. You gotta live on your own, now."

Live on my own? Hell, that sounded morbid. I didn't wanna live on my own anymore than she did.

"Well fine, then," I snapped.

I shrugged the blanket off my shoulders and stomped off to my room, throwing on a shirt and grabbing my keys. I decided I could take Ponyboy with me, keep me company. I could probably even sneak him into the stockroom with me. I don't really like any of my coworkers anyways.

I pulled up in front of the Curtis place a few minutes later in my shitty truck and got out, thumping up the porch stairs. I was still in a positively crap mood, and I had no intentions of pulling myself out of it.

"Hey!" I hollered. "Anybody home!"

"In the kitchen!"

I did indeed find Ponyboy in the kitchen, cleaning his nails up on the counter.

"Hey, kid," I greeted. "How're you doin?"

He knew what I was getting at and shrugged. "Pretty good, I guess. It's been a pretty uneventful morning. Get your letter let?"

"Nope," I said, popping the 'p'. "Mailman just stuffed more bills and a Sports Illustrated in there and went on his way."

"You didn't freak him out, did you?"

I gave him a tired look. "Ponyboy, my friend, what do you take me for?" Pony waved his hand dismissively.

"Don't get all flippant," I tisked. "C'mon, you wanna come to work with me?"

"Can I bring my transistor radio?"

I nodded. "I don't care, kid. C'mon, let's go."

XXXXX

"_C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon! Now touch me, baby! Can't you see that I am not afraid? What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said? _

_What was that promise that you made_?"

Pony and I were goofing off in the back room, probably lookin stupid as hell. He was spinning around in circles to 'Touch Me,' and I was hardly doing my job. Pendleton would be lucky if I got this all stocked by the end of my shift.

"Why don't we do this all the time?" Pony asked, slumping down against the wall as the song ended. I threw up my hands and picked up another box.

"Beats me, Pony. Guess we all just have other thinks to do."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I haven't had that much fun in awhile. And I definitely never thought I'd have any fun in a grocery store."

I just smiled. "Just gotta use your imagination," I advised. "Ain't you got imagination?"

"More so than you," he replied tartly.

"I doubt he has any!"

I whipped my head around. That wasn't Ponyboy. In fact, Pony looked just as confused as I felt. There, leaning in the doorway, was some kid.

"Who're you?" I asked. "You ain't even s'posed to be back here."

The kid rolled his eyes. "More right than you do; I'm Mr. Pendleton's son."

I raised an eyebrow. "Still don't mean you should be back here." I paused. "And what's with you bashing my imagination?"

He snickered. "No reason. Just tackin on to your friend."

Ponyboy pointed a finger at him. "Hey. Don't glom onto my material. Get your own, pal."

I stepped down from my ladder. I was actually getting sorta annoyed. I crossed the room so I was standing next to Li'l Pendleton. He was a little over five and a half feet, kinda pale and zitty. He had puberty written all over him.

"Your parents probably don't want you back here," I said.

"And they probably don't want your friend back here either," he retorted. I could hear Pony chuckle behind me.

"Good point. Hey, what's your name?" He asked.

"Jack," the kid said. "Jack Pendleton."

Jack held out his hand for me to shake, and I did so. His hands were sorta sweaty.

"Nice to meet ya, Jack. I'm Two-Bit Mathews, and that smart mouth behind me is Ponyboy Curtis."

Jack moved so he could see around me. "I've heard of you," he said to him.

"Most people have," Pony snapped. "Now here I am in the flesh."

I ran with it. "Yep. Mr. Ponyboy Curtis, smartass and hero extraordinaire! Look at him- the perfect picture of health. Those long, gangly limbs and that long hair. I think he's going for a flower-child look."

"Just need a little more dirt!" He interjected, throwing his head back. I snorted.

"He's also a bit of a drama queen, if you haven't noticed."

"I have," Jack nodded. "Look, my ma's gonna come lookin for me soon. We were s'posed to leave a few minutes ago. Bye, Two-Bit. Nice meeting ya, Ponyboy."

Jack turned and shut the door behind him gently. I didn't even think guys could be all that gentle.

"That was... Different," Ponyboy said. I turned around and shrugged.

"Good distraction."

"You were already distracted," Ponyboy pointed out. "That was just a continuation."

I ignored him. Ponyboy fiddled with his radio, and I went back to stocking shelves. I tried to get my mind off stuff, off of Bridget and Sodapop and Vietnam and buying a new place. And I couldn't get Jack Pendleton's white, pimpled face out of my head. I never even knew Mr. Pendleton had a kid. I guess that's not something you usually mention to your employees.

XXXXX

"Pony tells me the two of you made a new friend today."

I looked over at Darry. "He what?" I asked.

He took another sip off his beer. "He said you met your boss's kid at work. That you guys talked."

"We did," I acknowledge. "Bit of a distraction, though."

Darry gave me a look. "Knowing you, you were glad for it."

I smiled, chucking his shoulder. The house was quiet right now. Ponyboy was off doing his own thing, and Steve was out with Evie. That left me and Darry. So the two of us were sitting in the kitchen, drinkin beer and talking like we used to. With three of our guys gone, things were definitely quiet. But it was sorta like old times, too. Darry and I have known each other a long time now, and we even hung around in high school together until he started paling around with his football buddies. Then it was just me and the rest of the guys. Now, it was back to how it used to me.

"He also tells me you're looking for a place," Darry continued. I wavered my hand.

"Not so much yet," I sighed. "Just thinkin about it. I need a little more money. Sadie sure wants me outta the house."

"Did she say that?"

"In so many words," I grumbled. "It ain't such a bad idea though."

Darry nodded. "It'd be good for you to get your own place. Hell, even Steve has his own now. And I'll expect Soda to get his own eventually once he gets back." He shrugged, but I saw the hope in those eyes.

"Yeah, I bet," I said. "You hear from him lately?"

"Couple weeks ago," Darry sighed. "Not much goin on, just more fightin and heat and rain. Said he saw a guy with gangrene."

"Huh," I hummed. "Hope I never have to see that."

Darry just shook his head. "Lighten up, Two-Bit. Things'll be okay."

"I hope that, too."

XXXXX

**AN: And here we are again, folks. The characters might seem sorta... Not themselves... But they've been going through a lot of shit, as you'll learn. **

**Pardon typos. Feedback is greatly appreciated, always excepted, and makes my day. :) **


	2. Last Night I had the Strangest Dream

**Author's Note: Next chapter. Finally!**

**Thank you to all who reviewed, faved, or followed. Love it! Great motivation.**

**Happy reading. :)**

XXXXX

_Last night I had the strangest dream_

_I ever dreamed before_

_I dreamed the world had all agreed_

_To put an end to war_

_I dreamed I saw a mighty room_

_The room was filled with men_

_And the paper they were signing said_

_They'd never fight again_

_-Last Night I had the Strangest Dream, Simon and Garfunkel_

XXXXX

Pony and I were counting money. Well, really more like adding up the totals on my bank statements, which is nowhere near as fun, but it had to be done.

"Have you looked around at any places yet?" He asked.

"Not yet," I sighed. "The only time I have is Saturday, and that's a day of rest, ya know."

"No it ain't. That's Sunday," Ponyboy said. I rolled my eyes.

"You know what I'm getting at. But I guess we could go looking around this Saturday. You think your brother would come?" I wondered. Pony bit his lip.

"Maybe," he drawled. "He might be workin. I mean, he shouldn't have to, we get Soda's paycheck still, but I don't think Dar thinks it's enough."

I blew out a stream of air. "Alright, Steve then. Steve doesn't have anything to do."

"'Cept Evie."

I laughed. "Quit bein funnier than me, kid. Anyway, think he'd come?"

"Maybe," Pony shrugged. "He don't work on Saturday anymore. He still might make an excuse."

"Then we'll force him!" I exclaimed. "Y'all're wallowing."

"So are you!" He squeaked. "You're literally sitting and waiting to be drafted! On your own damn porch! Yeah, that's right; we all know."

I didn't doubt that. Word gets around here quickly. If you're doing something weird, someone will find out, tell someone who will tell someone who will tell someone who will tell someone else. So, within a few days, every Tom, Dick, and Harry on this side of town knows about said weird thing. And in this case, that's me they're talking about.

"It ain't about your brother being gone," I tried, but Ponyboy wouldn't take it.

"That's bullshit and you know it. This is about Sodapop no matter what you say."

I knew he was right. This was all about Sodapop. We knew that he could die over there, which made him as good as until he was actually back home. But that wouldn't even be possible for another two years. November 1970. I can't even imagine a new decade right now. I can't imagine having to go over there myself. Neither can Steve or Darry or even Pony. This whole draft thing actually happening to one of us was scary. Smacked in the face by reality, and our faces were still sore. It made everything feel so important, so final. I've gotten to the point where I find myself wondering silly things, like whether or not I'll ever get to see the Tonight Show again, or use a urinal, or get drunk off my ass with Steve.

"Maybe it is," I whispered. "But not completely. It's just a scary thought."

"I know it is. It could happen to you or Steve any day. Or Tim Shepard or Rocky Singer-"

"He's been drafted already."

Pony narrowed his eyes. "So, he's already gone? Like, in Vietnam?"

I nodded. "Yeah. A couple months ago. Same tour of duty as your brother, two years. He writes his ma."

Ponyboy nodded. His eyes were wide open.

"So it's happening to guys all over the place," he monotoned. "Remember Cherry Valance?"

I was surprised, but then again, not really. "I remember her. She and Bridget are friends."

"Still?"

"Yeah, still."

He raised an eyebrow. "Kinda thought that particular group disbanded."

I almost rolled my eyes. Like it's my job to keep up with Bridget's social circle. Then again, she keeps up with mine pretty well. Said she even asked Soda to write her letters.

"They kinda did," I shrugged. "Marcia Powell-remember her?-and Cherry are friends still, and a girl you might not know named Missy Redar is too. They still talk. But Vickie Harper and that other one is another story entirely."

Pony smirked. "I seem to remember her. Weren't you sweet on her in middle school?"

I snorted. "Yeah. Big waste of time that was! She didn't even give me a second glance until she had reason to."

We laughed about it, remembering.

"Anyways," Pone laughed. "Randy Adderson, the one that didn't fight in the rumble? I talked to him in his car?" I nodded. "Apparently, he's gone, too."

I raised my eyebrows. "Like, just in 'Nam gone, or gone gone?"

"Just in 'Nam gone. I don't know anybody who's died over there yet. Guess I'll have to be checking the papers... And the mail." He cast his eyes back down to his lap.

"I miss him."

I watched his face, looking for any warning signs that he might start bawling. When it looked as though he'd be okay, I decided I could say something.

"Yeah, we all do," I agreed. "He'll be home before ya know it, though."

Pony shook his head. "Two years is a long time. Enough time for him to get killed. And I really don't know what I'll do if that happens."

I didn't know either. I didn't want to lose another buddy, and he certainly didn't want to lose a brother. Soda was a great pal. He'd stick by your side and let you take his couch and laugh with you. And I knew after years and years of observation that he was an even better brother. But the government had taken him away, along with a lot of other brothers.

"Wouldn't it just be great," Pony began softly. "If no one ever fought again."

"Nobody?" I repeated. He nodded.

"Nobody," he repeated, emphasizing it softly.

I sighed. I just didn't want to think about it. Because I fight people all the time, forced or not.

"Saturday," I decided. "Saturday, we'll go lookin for a place."

XXXXX

"Well, it ain't a matchbox, but it sure as hell ain't the Grand Hotel."

Oh, the lady showing us around didn't seem too appreciative of that. She shot Steve a real nasty look, and then straightened herself back up.

"It's sixty a month," she said stiffly. "I have a few going for less, if that's more up your alley."

Was that a dig? I looked over at Steve, who had his arms crossed defensively over his chest. Pony pretended to be occupied with looking around. Maybe it was, but I wasn't gonna address it directly. I smiled at her.

"Aw, no need, ma'am! This'll do just fine," I said. She narrowed her eyes.

"Alright then. I'll just leave the three of you to look." She stomped off.

"Thank god," Steve hissed. "What crawled up her ass?"

I shrugged happily. "Beats me."

"Two-Bit, can you even afford this place?" Pony asked. My face fell some.

"Yeah, I can. At least, with what I've got saved up now, I can."

"Then what's the problem?" Steve wondered. "You should grab this place. Hell, you're only a couple blocks down from me, pretty decent part of town. You got the money. What, you lookin before you leap these days?"

"It's not that," I said. "I'm just as wonderfully spontaneous as I've always been, Stevie. It's just a lot to take in."

Ponyboy, even though he's never had a job or a place of his own or any of that adult stuff, nodded his head. Steve just watched me with an ever-present scowl. Maybe it was the Stevie. Or maybe it was just all the same things that were concerning me concerning him. The draft is an ever-present threat over the head of any old guy our age. And there was just everything else, every shitty, wonderful thing, coming down on us like the November rain.

"I'll put an offer down," I relented. "Tomorrow."

That seemed to please Steve, so we left, making sure to slam the door on the lady as she tried to follow us.

"If ya could," Steve said as we drove. "Drop me off at the library."

I laughed. "Don't tell me you read now, Steve."

"Ain't nothing wrong with reading."

"Yeah, yeah, Ponyboy," Steve sneered. "We know. Just, could ya drop me off there?"

"Sure thing."

I decided not to question it. Just watched him walk up the steps to the library and disappear inside. Pony quickly took advantage of the now empty seat. He cut his eyes to mine.

"Let's walk around awhile."

Ponyboy was practically about to jump out of the car. He looked anxious, like Darry hadn't let him out of the house at all.

"Yeah, we can walk around," I agreed. "Lemme park first."

I parked the car, and then we walked around. We were in the middle part of town, and it was real quiet. No one was really out. Just the two of us, walking without saying anything.

"Wanna head in there?"

I pointed to a record store just ahead of us, a sign above the door reading 'Sixth Avenue Records.'

"Yeah, that's fine." Pony shrugged his shoulders lazily. So we headed inside, and a bell rang when we opened the door.

"Hi! Welcome to Sixth Avenue Records. May I help you?"

There was a red-headed chick smiling at us from behind the counter. She had one long braid down her back and was wearing a fringe vest. She looked like she could be friends with Bridget, based on how she was dressed last time I saw her.

"We're just lookin," Ponyboy told her. She nodded.

"Well, okay. My name's Rose- just holler if you need me."

"Can do."

Rose grinned at us one last time before going into a back room. Ponyboy looked at me with an odd look on his face.

"I feel like I've seen her before," he said slowly. I raised an eyebrow.

"Where?" I asked. "I ain't seen her before."

Ponyboy started biting one of his nails. "School, maybe? I don't have any classes with her... I dunno, I just feel I've seen her."

"I bet she's seen you," I smirked. Ponyboy chucked me in the arm, which just made me laugh.

"You just shuddup now," he grumbled.

That sent me into hysterics. The kid was blind to his own situation. Every girl in town knew he was good-looking. Just as good-looking as his brothers, even.

"C'mon, let's look around."

We flicked through the records. I wasn't exactly able to find anything I wanted, but Ponyboy, always partial to the Doors, found something to take with him.

"The Doors are always good," Rose told us-really just him, though-as he paid. "But I like the Rolling Stones better."

"Ah." Pony nodded his head. I couldn't tell if he wasn't interested, or just too nervous to say anything.

"Here ya go!" She handed him his bag. He smiled at her.

"She's cute," I told him as we left.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I know that. I meant for you."

He stopped walking and stared at me.

"You're nuts, Two-Bit," he said simply. "Nuts!"

XXXXX

_A large room. There was a long table, where everyone was sitting. Everyone sitting around the table was smoking 'til the air was blue, with the sleeves on their button-up shirts rolled and their ties loose around their necks._

_"You couldn't be more wrong if you tried," Darry said icily. Steve rolled his eyes._

_"Like you have a better answer," he volleyed. "You don't know what to do anymore than the rest of us do!"_

_"We need to narrow our thinking," Ponyboy cut in, taking a drag of his cigarette. "We're thinking too broadly. The only way to attack this problem is to take it a piece at a time."_

_"But what piece comes first?" Darry asked. He suddenly had glasses, square with thick black frames. "We can't start if we don't know where to start."_

_The three of them went on, arguing and yelling and pointing. Then there was Dallas, Johnny, and Sodapop, leaning back in their chairs and talking like they would have in the good old days. The others kept trying to bring them into it, saying things like, "Whaddya think, Dally?"; "Johnny, where do you think we should start?"; "Please help us out here, Soda!"_

_But none of it worked- the three of them kept on talking. They were unreachable, untouchable, unconcerned._

My eyes opened slowly, like they do when you've just woken up from being conked on the head. I was grasping at the memory of what I'd seen, trying to figure it out. It was a little unnerving to be seeing Johnny and Dallas in one of my dreams, when it hadn't hardly ever happened before, even when they were alive. The two of them looked as alive as ever, and it made me hope that when the sun came up, I'd find them all at the Curtis house.

When the sun actually did come up, I called Bridget first chance I got. She was an hour ahead, so if I called sorta early, at least it wasn't even earlier where she was.

"Hello?" Her voice rang in my ears. I sighed in relief.

"I had a dream," I blurted into the receiver. I could practically see the face she was probably making.

"Two-Bit? Why're you calling me?" She asked.

"I told you; I had a dream!" I repeated.

"People have dreams all the time," Bee said dismissively. "What's so special about this one?"

I shrugged, even though she couldn't see me. "It was real strange. I was in this room, and all these people were yelling about shit, and they couldn't agree about something. And the guys were there, all of them. Johnny and Dallas and Sodapop. What was funny was that while everyone around them was screaming, they didn't say anything! How Dallas stayed out of a fight is beyond me."

"Mmm, beyond me, too. Listen, Two-Bit, I don't know what it meant any more than you do. It was probably nothing. Can I go to class now?"

I knew it meant something. It must have! I may not be the smartest man there is, but I'm not exactly stupid.

"You can," I allowed. "Just promise you'll write to me."

"You write to me first, Two-Bit Mathews."

And she hung up.

XXXXX

It was an everyday sorta thing. Every day, I would pick Pony up from his house after school and go to work, and Ponyboy would bring his radio. He always had that transistor radio of his. He brought that thing with him everywhere. Then he'd set up shop in the stockroom, turning on his radio and do homework or what not. Sometimes, we'd start screwing around and I'd take an unofficial break so we could spin around and laugh and shit. No one laughed enough anymore.

And then, everyday, Jack Pendleton would show up at the stockroom door, and Pony and I would invite him in. He wasn't exactly one for dancing, but he would laugh and sit back and talk.

"So how old are you, Jack?" Ponyboy asked him.

"Fourteen. Fifteen next march," Jack told him.

"So you're a freshman?"

"Yeah."

"At Will Rogers?"

"No." Jack shook his head.

"I didn't think so," Ponyboy drawled. "I would've seen ya. I'm a junior there."

"Well, I go to Washington. Just about everyone in my algebra class is a bigot. Is your school segre-"

"Jack!"

I almost dropped the crates I was carrying. Whoever it was, their voice was shrill and just about burst one of my eardrums. I set down my crates slowly, and there was Mrs. Pendleton.

"Jack, leave these boys alone. We need to leave now, anyway. Go out to the car."

Jack sighed, then waved at us as he left. Mrs. Pendleton sighed, too, then came over to me.

"How are you, Mr. Mathews?" She asked.

"Fine, ma'am. And you can call me Keith, if ya'd like."

She smiled at me. It was a real momish smile, the one they all have, the one they all get when they have kids. Not fake, but not always real. Not always.

"I'm sorry if he's been bothering you," she said. "I know you're probably very busy, and him always chattering away at you can't help." She sorta laughed.

"Ah, he's fine, ma'am," I said. "He ain't any trouble at all. It's kinda nice, actually."

She heaved out a sigh, like she was both relieved and annoyed at the same time.

"You do know about his condition, don't you?" She asked.

Ick. Condition. That couldn't be good at all. Condition means sick, sure as the sun.

"I'm afraid I don't, ma'am," I replied.

"Well, uh... He has cancer, Mr. Mathews."

See? There it was. I could feel that one in my bones. The kid looked kinda sickly. But cancer is a big deal, I knew that.

"I'm sorry," I consoled. "That must be real hard on y'all."

Mrs. Pendleton shrugged, like she was used to it.

"It is at times," she sighed. "In many ways. But... I just wanted to tell you how glad I am that he's found a friend in you. Jack doesn't get out much."

His friend? I didn't really think so. We only ever talk for a few minutes a day, until he has to leave, and she's acting like we're best pals. Not that I don't like the kid, he's just not way up there on my list, cancer or not. Jack was even younger than Ponyboy, which felt kinda strange. It was only a couple years, but he seemed light years away. Jack was just a kid- I was kinda sorta an adult now, in a sense.

"Well, I'm glad to. My friend over here, Ponyboy, the two of then get on real well, too."

Mrs. Pendleton looked over my shoulder at Ponyboy.

"Hello, Mr. Ponyboy," she grinned. He waved at her. Pony came and stood next to me.

"Hi, Mrs. Pendleton. Sorry to hear about Jack. I hope he's doing alright."

Her face fell. I almost cuffed him, but decided not to. It would probably just make her sadder.

"Oh, we hope so, too," she said. "One in four isn't so bad."

She shrugged her shoulders with a sad smile, then left.

"One in four, huh?" Pony breathed. "Well, shit."

"I know," I muttered.

One in four.

Twenty-five percent.

What? I can do math.

But those were the odds.

Jack had a twenty-five percent chance of living. One in four. There was that small chance, but no promises.

XXXXX

**AN: I have always pictured Jack as a Stanley Spektor-looking kid from the movie Magnolia. That's just what I see.**

**Pardon typos. Reviews are always fab, and I love hearing from you guys. :)**


	3. Much Ado About Nothing

**Author's Note: Hey all. Next chapter.**

**Little disappointed with the feedback, or lack thereof, last chapter. I understand if you guys are busy, I really do, but I would love to hear from you if you have the time.**

**Happy reading. :)**

XXXXX

_I do love_ _nothing in the world so well as you- is not that strange?_

_-Much Ado About Nothing, William Shakespeare_

XXXXX

I was royally pissed. Write her first, my ass. I scowled at the piece of paper lying in front of me. What could I even possibly write? I'm not a good writer. I never have been. I'm not so sure I could ever be. That talent belongs to others, more deserving others. I have plenty to say, and only one way to say it: with my mouth. Any letters I do write are short and simple. Bridget, however, is the epitome of someone who knows what they're doing when it comes to composing letters. She's a smart gal anyways, and now she's proved she can write pretty damn good too. The girl has so much going for her, it sometimes makes me forget for a second that I really do love her. And I just missed her a lot. See, she got herself this scholarship to college because she's so good at singing and acting and all that, so she got the hell out of here and went back to New York. Kinda made me feel bad for some reason when she did that, and I don't know why. Maybe because I drove her to the train station and waved goodbye to her, maybe it was just that she was able to leave and I wasn't. I never thought about it much before, but there are better places to be than Tulsa. It's true. I think we all know it, we just don't really want to talk about it. Gets our hopes up.

Anyways. The letter. It was still pissing me off. Nothing I could say would even amount to anything interesting! What was even happening in my life? I mean, there was the apartment, 'Nam updates, my job. Jack Pendleton. Ugh. Jack Pendleton. His ma just... Told us. Just told us her kid had cancer and it was all very weird. I've never known anyone with cancer. And it was weird to know someone with it. The whole thing was off, how after a couple weeks, she thinks we're his friends, that she can trust us with this info on her son. I couldn't, I don't think. Not the kind of demeanor I want to put off. But it's been hard not to lately anyways.

I figured I could just start writing. Write whatever I want. I would tell Bridget everything.

_Bridget,_

_So I wrote you first! Gimme a medal. Anyways, I have things to say. The dough's coming in pretty steady from work, so I put down a deposit on a place in the middle of town. Pretty decent. Got itself a kitchen and bedroom and a place for a TV. I don't really need much else anyway. So I'll be moving in pretty soon, gotta do a few other things first. You can see it sometime when you're visiting._

_Speaking of work, my boss apparently has a kid. His name is Jack. Fourteen. Has cancer. Mrs. Pendleton told me and Pony the other day when I was working. I felt funny when she told me. I mean, it's really too bad and all, but I don't exactly know him that well. He's a good kid though. He deserves more than 25%. He and Pony get along real good too. I almost hope they don't become too good of friends. I don't want to see Ponyboy so sad again like he was when Johnny and Dallas died._

_No news from the draft board. I guess I ain't going anywhere yet. Except maybe to come see you. I do miss you, even if you're making it hard to talk. Here's to hoping its going good up there._

_Actually, come down here. For Thanksgiving or something. Really. Come back._

_Marry me,_

_Two-Bit_

I stuffed it into an envelope, sealed it, stamped it. Signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours. I shoved it in the mailbox and put the flag up.

It wasn't until I got back into the house that I realized I'd signed off 'Marry Me.' Jesus Christ. I was just joking, but knowing her... The next letter's gonna be somethin. I once asked a girl to marry me when I was in the third grade. Soda presided as the priest, and our teacher yelled at us when she saw us kiss on the playground. It was pretty funny, actually. But maybe I should tell her about my new lover so we can properly separate.

I smiled to myself. I think I can still be funny. I could just see perfectly in my mind's eye the three of us screwing around at recess, thinking it was for real for those twenty minutes. Kids are good. Real good. Which got me thinkin about Jack, about how he was just a kid, too. Maybe he once asked a little girl to marry him, a friend of his pretending he was some li'l' messenger from God. But hell, if there is a god up there, he sure ain't doing anybody any favors. I can't hardly watch the news anymore.

I shook my head slowly, starin out at the neighborhood. Darry's was just down the street. Maybe I could catch him there. So I turned on my heels and walked down the sidewalk, feeling my boots hit the pavement. It was fucking cold, and Darry's wasn't, and I just wanted to see him. I just wanted someone to be there, proof that people stuck around.

"Anyone home?" I called, walking inside. Darry appeared, glaring at me.

"Could you be any louder?" He grunted. "What's up, Two-Bit?"

I went for the bigguns. "I asked Bridget to marry me."

Darry raised his eyebrows. Guess he was surprised too! If anyone should be gettin married, it's Steve and Evie. They already fight like an old married couple, know each other well enough, and hell, Steve is just more confident than I am.

"Whaddya mean, you asked her to marry her?" He asked. I shrugged.

"I wrote her a letter. I didn't know I would write it, it just came out. I just signed off, 'Marry me, Two-Bit.' I don't wanna get married yet."

"Then don't," Darry sighed. "God, just write a different letter."

"I can't!"

"Why can't you?"

"I already sent the other one."

Darry actually laughed, leaned back against the wall, and crossed his arms across his chest. I wasn't really trying to be funny that time.

"Then I guess you're just gonna have to wait and see, won't you?" Darry asked pointedly. I waved him off.

"Whatever, man. Let's go grab a beer."

He followed quickly after me.

XXXXX

"I'mma buy you a white wine spritzer, my friend. On me."

"Might as well chop off my balls, Two-Bit."

I shoved him, barely rattling him. He just shoved back. It was times like this where I miss old Darry, how he was when we was kids. Before high school and life and everything. Playin cowboys and Indians in the front yard and sneaking vodka on camping trips and talking about pretty gals. And I was one-hundred percent willing to pretend we were back in grade school and play in the front yard. I'd even grab my old cap gun and see where it takes us.

"Gettin into any good trouble, Two-Bit?"

"Nah," I shrugged. "Not even okay trouble. Mostly just screwin with the price tags at work. Most people don't like buying seven dollar plums."

"I wouldn't think so."

I bit the inside of my cheek. "This is weird."

Darry looked almost offended. Like I had invited him all the way out here to drink beer and piss him off. I could do that at his house. He can be touchy.

"What's weird?"

"This whole grown-up thing. I had to invite you to get a drink. I'm disgusted, Darry, disgusted! I'm twenty and disgusted."

"I can relate to that," he nodded, looking thoughtfully into his bottle. "I think I felt pretty grody at twenty, too. I just don't get why gettin a beer is disgusting."

"It ain't," I admitted. "Just asking you to is. I feel as though there's no time anymore."

Darry shrugged. "There is. I mean, I think there is. I feel as though I still have time. You still have time."

"But we don't know how much!" I sang. "Brother, it's like we're waiting."

He snorted. "Well, you are."

"So're you."

"Fer what."

"Sodapop. I think you're waiting for him."

I meant that he was waiting for him to come home. And we all wanted that to be on his own two feet. But it was waiting nonetheless.

"So I am," Darry allowed. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "And Steve and Ponyboy."

Darry shook his head, sighing. "It's all such bullshit. I see it on the news every night. You know, one of these days, Ponyboy will turn eighteen. Then either of us will be up for grabs. Pony couldn't kill a man, Two-Bit. He couldn't."

"Hell, neither could I!" I snorted. "I'm sure a lot of them can't. But what choice do they have?"

Darry smiled grimly, nodding his head. I wondered why. I wondered what he was thinking. I remember a time, when our dads were around, long ago. His dad was a bombardier in Europe. I remember seeing the medals. My old man was a front line sort of guy, shooting and all that. I know Bridget's dad fought in that war, too, but I don't know where or what he did. He had a Purple Heart, though. I don't know when I made this connection, but what those guys did was worth it. What my buddies are having to do isn't.

"We're lucky, I guess, Two-Bit." Darry played with his coaster, and the two of us started flicking it back and forth.

"Laugh about it, shout about it, when you've got to choose..."

"...Every way you look at it, ya lose," Darry finished, getting at what I was goin for. "Real positive of you."

"I know it, Dar."

"Please be happy again, Two-Bit."

I laughed genuinely. "I am happy. I'm just scared, too."

"And that's just about the worst, huh?" Darry raised his bottle. "Lemme propose a toast."

I raised mine as well. "A toast to what, my good friend?"

Darry pursed his lips, then smiled. "A toast to old friends, and to being scared shitless."

"Amen."

We drank, then moved on. We talked about work and the holidays and how my mother was already playing Bing Crosby's Christmas album. But truth be told, by the time I have my place, I'll be in the mood for it and missing it.

We drove home happy and laughing and a bit buzzy. Pony would be him from school soon, and we lounged around his house and watched some show on TV. I suddenly wanted to see Judy Garland sing about having a merry little Christmas, and I was imaging hearing Bee sing along and all of us trying to sing along with her. But, as it goes, until then, I'll have to muddle through somehow.

"There's a letter! There's a letter!"

I looked at Darry and raised an eyebrow. Neither of us knew what he meant as Pony barreled into the house with an envelope in his hands.

"Where're your books?" Darry asked. He was talking about his school books. Pony waved him off.

"Dropped 'em by the mailbox. Didn't mean to."

Darry frowned. "It's wet out there, kid! Ya wanna ruin them?"

Pony shook his head. "No, not at all. I was just excited. Maybe because our brother wrote."

"Who wrote?"

Steve was the next to come through the door, slamming Pony's books down on the kitchen table. Ponyboy mumbled his thanks, but quickly moved on.

"Soda wrote," he said. "We've only heard from him once since he left."

"Then we should read it!" I cried, jumping up and crowding around the letter with the rest of them.

Pony ripped open the envelope and pulled the letter out. Darry straightened it out so we all could read it.

_Dear Pony and Darry,_

_I know I've been bad about writing. It's just that there hasn't been a lot of time. I have to wake up early and all, but at least there's guys to goof off with. I like my the guys. There's Hollywood from LA, Dave from Philly, Four-Eyed Stan from Oregon, and Kurt from Alabama. And lots of others too. I like Kurt best. He's funny and has a lot of good stories. He grew up on a cotton plantation in Alabama, and he's picked it his whole life and stuff. Got lots of good stories about that. It helps get your mind off stuff. I haven't seen anything bad yet, but I know I will. I'll have to in two years. It isn't so fair, but I figure that at least I'm not in it alone. A lot of other guys don't think it's fair either. Sometimes I wonder if it's fair what they've done to us, sending us over here, but I don't know who else there is to do it. But then I get to thinking about whether or not any of this is really necessary but I'd never ask. I'd probably just get yelled at._

_Anyways, how are you guys? I wanna hear about school and work and the guys, even if I ain't so good at getting back right away. I feel bad about that, but I do like knowing everything that goes on at home. Write soon._

_Love,_

_Private Sodapop Curtis_

_(Whaddya make of that?)_

"Well," Steve grumbled. "At least he sounds okay."

"He does," Ponyboy agreed.

We kinda stood there staring at it, like it was the lost amazing thing in the whole damn world. Letter were a big thing for our motley crew this year. Our way of communication. I could only imagine what the next two years, next four years would be like. How Pony would write us letters when he went to college. How Sodapop's letters would start coming from Vietnam; from the jungle to us. How Bridget wrote me letters from her New York. I imagined her in her little apartment with her roommate, hunched over paper and writing. Putting off homework and singin. She'd write a letter, then head out for the night to find something else to do.

"I'm gonna write him back," Pony decided, disappearing into his room. The rest of us exchanged glances.

"How about we all write him back?" Darry suggested.

Steve was fast on that one.

XXXXX

I was working the late shift. It was dark and starry, and I found myself staring out the back door at it all. For a few minutes there, I though I was summer. That Bee would come striding towards me and I could envelope her in my arms. I wanted to take her home and talk to her and have sex over and over. Was that really too much to ask? It hit me that she wasn't here when I remembered that it was cold and November and she wouldn't come home until probably Thanksgiving.

"Why're you just standing there?"

I turned around, and my supposed pal Jack was walking towards me. I smiled big.

"'Cuz it's a nice night, that's why, my friend. Check it out."

Jack stood beside me and looked out at the sky. I'm not really one for stargazing, but it was pretty. Bridget would drag me out just to look at stars because she had hardly seen them before. I used to think it was kinda stupid, that everyone saw stars all the time. But not her. She just kinda watched 'em, almost critically, like she was daring them to move or something like that. It'd be hot, and I'd be sweatin like a greased pig, but she'd grab my hand and then I'd remember.

"I guess they are nice," Jack conceded slowly. "Didn't take you for the stargazing type."

"You'd be right."

I looked down at him and examined his face, trying to find the cancer. Like there'd be some sign, and then I'd know for sure. But all I could see was a young and tired face. I think it was the tired that gave it away. Kids shouldn't be looking so tired.

"Why're you staring at me?" Jack asked. I stiffened.

"No reason," I said, and walked away. Pretending to work, stacking and sorting.

"There's a reason," Jake said with certainty. "Did she tell you?"

I pretended like I didn't know. "Did she tell me what?"

"Oh, you know!"

"I don't think I do-"

"You know about the damn cancer, Two-Bit."

I froze, staring at him. I guess he just knew when other people knew. Like he could tell. I swallowed hard.

"She did," I answered. "Your mom told me and Ponyboy."

He sighed. Jack didn't say anything, so I went to unload another box of canned goods. Fucking pumpkin pie mix. I wanted the holidays, and I didn't want them.

"I wish she hadn't told you."

I finished unloading the box, and looked up at him.

"Why?" I asked. "It ain't like you had a say in the matter, ya know. These things just... Happen."

He looked down at his feet, then sighed.

"It's just that when people find out, they start treating me different. Like I'm weak. I'm not, Two-Bit. Just sick, is all. I mean, I could get better, couldn't I? It ain't impossible."

I didn't know about that. I hadn't known anybody with cancer before, but I didn't think it was something they could cure. I don't know about all that medical stuff. The sickest I'd ever seen anybody was Ponyboy that week after Johnny and Dally died. Hell, I could barely handle seeing Johnny and Dallas in the hospital myself. And think about it: we don't have a cure for the common cold. How could we have a cure for cancer?

"And I don't have a lot of friends because of it either," he continued. "I've never even kissed a girl before. You're twenty, right? You got a girlfriend?"

I looked at Jack out of the corner of my eye, then nodded.

"Yeah," I said.

"You do?"

"Uh-huh."

"Then can I see her? What's she look like? Is she pretty? Or is she ugly?"

"Hey!" I whipped around and pointed a finger at him. "No one gets to go around callin my girl ugly. And yeah, she is pretty. She's real pretty. She's got curly black hair and green eyes and comes up to about here on me," I said, gesturing to my shoulder. I kinda got hit with a lot of emotions right then, but I didn't really feel like breaking down in the stockroom of Pendleton's, so I just took a deep breath and kept unloading boxes.

"Well, that didn't help me at all!" Jack cried. "There're plenty of girls with curly black hair and green eyes. C'mon Two-Bit, what's she really look like?"

I groaned and sat down next to him. I couldn't think and unload at the same time. What did Bridget really look like? I dunno, just like herself, I guess. She didn't look like anybody, at least not anyone I knew.

"Two-Bit, what did you think of her the first time you saw her?"

"I hated her guts."

Jack laughed.

"And I'm guessing she hated yours back?" I had to laugh then too.

"Yeah, she did. She hated me a lot. I guess I kinda deserved it, because I kinda liked pickin on her. I started callin her the Raven because her hair was so dark. But then we got to know each other better, and then we got along real fine. After awhile... Well, after everything, we just sorta... Fell in love? I guess?"

Jack nodded his head slowly, like he was thinkin real hard about it all. What if he never got the chance to fall in love? Or even meet a girl he likes enough to kiss? That would suck.

"Could I meet her?" He asked. "Since you ain't any good at describing people, I'd like to see her for myself."

I cocked an eyebrow.

"I s'pose so, but you'd have to wait 'til Thanksgivin. She's away at college."

"Where's she go to college?"

"Some school in New York. I forget which."

Jack nodded.

"Yeah, I could wait."

I tried really hard not to wince. Something about what he said hit me hard. I think it was the waiting bit. I wasn't so sure if he could wait. What if he died tomorrow? I shook my head, like I was clearing away the thought. I didn't want to get attached. I couldn't. I didn't want to feel what I did with Johnny and Dallas, especially Johnny, considering the situation, again. Just another helpless kid.

"So I was wondering," I began. "Where you get off to when your ma comes and gets you."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Oh. Well, sometimes it's to go home, do homework. Other times it's for appointments."

"You mean doctor appointments." I didn't exactly ask, more like I said it as a statement. Jack nodded.

"Yeah. That."

I wanted to ask what they did at those appointments. Whether they gave him good or bad news. If they tried to make him better. If he went just because that was the thing to do, and that there was really nothing else besides that that could be done. I felt immensely sorry, and for once in the last while, it wasn't for me. It was for him, this kid that was kinda funny and kept me and Pony from getting too caught up in the bad stuff and just went on. I was impressed. If I were in his position, I'm not so sure I would've handled it well. Kid's a trooper.

"You're a brave kid, Jack," I told him sincerely. He nodded.

"Yeah, people tell me that." He looked me in the eye. "Thanks."

I punched his shoulder. "No problem, kid. No problem."

XXXXX

It was a shitty-looking day. The rain had turned to some sort of icy snow mix. It would've been pretty if the roads weren't so sloshy and the sky so, so grey. I looked up from the forms I was filling out in the living room when I noticed the mailman trudging up to our mailbox. I felt the familiar feeling of dread that came with his arrival. Was I or wasn't I? If not today, tomorrow, then. It would come someday. They were always saying they needed more boys over in 'Nam. Fucking McNamara and Lyndon Johnson and everyone else out in our nation's capital.

I shoved my feet into my shoes and ran out to the mailbox, yanking the mail out of the box, flicking through it as I went up the steps. No draft notice yet, but something better. Bridget's familiar handwriting triggered something in me, and I smiled. I shook the snow off my shoulders when I stepped inside, throwing my shoes off and sitting down. The letter was out in seconds, and I began to read.

_Two-Bit,_

_So you did write me first. Congrats, but sorry; no medal. _

_Things are fine up here. It's cold, it's kinda rainy, but I'm used to it by now. I just took a two year vacation from it, that's all. School wise, things are good. I have to read a lot, but my theatre and music classes are pretty great. And yes, I'm coming down for Thanksgiving. I've already arranged to stay with dad and Viv. Did you know she moved in with him? Sold her house and everything! I bet they've combined all their books and plates already. Dad will probably want to do something with me and Viviane, but I'm sure I could get away for a bit. Maybe I could come over on Thanksgiving. You still do that with the Curtis', don't you? I could probably stop by for awhile. Then maybe we could sneak off... Like to your place. You told me, I'm curious. I bet that's what you were going for. _

_I'm sorry to hear about your friend. Twenty-five percent isn't very good, is it? No, I guess it's not. I hope he makes it. He's too young not to. _

_I'm glad you're still here. I want you to stay put in Oklahoma. I don't know what everyone up here would think of your boots. _

_And about marrying you: it's been two years. Let's wait a little longer, huh?_

_Love,_

_Bridget_

I set the letter down on my dresser. I was glad she was okay, made me hurt to hear she was sorry, and a bit pissed that she wanted to wait. I wasn't exactly serious, but hell, if she'd said yes, I woulda gone through with it. I think. Maybe not yet.

Maybe we should wait another couple years. Or longer. I stared back down at the forms I was filling out. The apartment would be mine shortly. I was gonna have to have her over. Stay with me sometime. That would probably require things like good and furniture, but I figure I can arrange that easy. Maybe we could play house for awhile, see how we like it. Then marriage maybe someday.

XXXXX

**AN: McNamara was the secretary of war under JFK and LBJ. That might help you some. :)**

**Anyways, you guys have been real good about favoriting and following, but I always read and love your reviews. I'd love to hear from you all. :)**


	4. The Times they are a-Changin

**Author's Note: Hey all! Next chapter.**

**So this is cool: someone told me that Bridget/Two-Bit was their OTP. That just about made me squeal. Now all we need is some fanart and we'll really be in business!**

**Thank you so much for the feedback, guys! Keep it up, keep it up, keep it up.**

**Happy reading. :)**

XXXXX

_Come mothers and fathers_

_Throughout the land_

_And don't criticize_

_What you can't understand_

_Your sons and your daughters_

_Are beyond your command_

_Your old road is_

_Rapidly agin'._

_Please get out of the new one_

_If you can't lend your hand_

_For the times they are a-changin'_

_-Simon and Garfunkel, The Times they are a-Changin_

XXXXX

My mother didn't want me to leave. My sister and I were more than open to the idea. I'm twenty years old and don't need to be living with my mother anymore. It's been a blast, but I must be moving on.

"You know I'm here if you ever need me, don't you?" She asked me. I tried not to laugh.

"I've known my whole life, ma," I insisted. "Things ain't gonna be much different now, will they?"

I was trying to get her to see that everything would be okay, but then I realized that maybe I was trying to convince myself, too. Things would be different from now on. That draft notice would come to my house. Any letters from Bridget or Sodapop would come to my place. I'd be paying my own way, something I've never really had to do before. I wasn't worried about my mother; she was a tough lady and could handle herself and Sadie. It's prolly gonna be easier now without me. But the fact that she seemed worried that I wouldn't come back-even when I'm just fifteen minutes away-was hard.

"I suppose," she sighed. She watched as I put the last of the things into my truck, slamming the tailgate and walking towards the driver's side.

"It'll be okay," I said again. "It will, ma."

I got in and started the truck. The screen door opened and closed, and Sadie ran out, hanging onto our ma's backside. Like the little kid she is. We're miles and miles away from each other, and I haven't had to move an inch. They stared in at me, and I stared back, but I didn't feel guilty or anything like that. Just sorta sad. My mother kissed my cheek, like moms do, and I pulled away. It wasn't so much like I was leaving, not to anywhere far away or anything, but it hurt bad. It wasn't like I was driving thousands of miles away, but there was still gonna be some sort of absence.

Funny thing- first place I went was the Curtis place.

"You look ready," Steve told me. I nodded.

"Sure as hell am," I sighed. "I shoulda done this-"

"Last year. When you were supposed to graduate."

Steve gave me a knowing look, and I had the decency to act ashamed. But I wasn't really, just playin along.

"You guys still gonna help me move all this shit?" I asked, jerking my thumb back. All my stuff was back there, some other stuff loaded up in Darry's truck 'cuz we hauled it there the night before. Steve nodded.

"Yep. Pony's comin. We're gonna meet Darry there. I gave him the address."

The address, huh?

Well, maybe it really was mine now.

XXXXX

A lot of the furniture was damn heavy, and the four of us were trying to haul it all the way up to my apartment. The place came with a few things, but I needed others. A bed, for instance, and places to sit and stuff. I remember having to help Steve with this not long after graduation. He got outta his dad's place fast as a jackrabbit. Faster, even.

So now, we were doing it for me, and Darry and I were trying to unwedge a GD couch from the doorway.

"This is just peachy!" I grumbled, trying to pull it through. I could hear Darry sigh on the other side.

"Dumbass," he hissed. "Looks like we might hafta take it apart."

I found a crack where I could see through to him, and raised an eyebrow. Darry just pressed his lips together and shrugged.

"Take the damn thing apart?" I repeated. "Hell, this is taking longer than I thought!"

More footsteps. Steve and Pony looked through their own respective holes at me. Pony was trying not to laugh; Steve was shaking his head.

"We shoulda taken it apart earlier. That's what we did with the bed frame," Steve said.

"It's wedged pretty good." Steve glared at Pony, prolly for stating the obvious. Ponyboy rolled his eyes.

"Dar, your tools still in the truck?" He asked. Darry nodded.

"Yeah, they are. Mind helpin me with them, Pone?"

"Naw, I'll come with ya."

The two of them left, and then it was just me and Steve. Steve on one side, me on the other. Anyone who didn't know what was going on would probably find this pretty funny, and I would agree. I mean, there's a goddamn couch stuck in the door.

"So," I began.

"So?" Steve repeated. I gave him a one-sided grin.

"Come here often?" I asked. Steve snorted and shook his head.

"Only you, Two-Bit. Only you. Since you were seven years old."

I laughed. "If only I could be seven again. My life would be a lot easier."

Steve sighed and sat down on the ground, but I could still see him through the crack. And hearin Steve has never been a problem. "You're tellin me," he said.

"Seven year olds have it lucky."

"Sure as hell do. Not a damn care in the world."

Now, I didn't know about that, beside for all we knew, those kids were worried about stuff too. But maybe they weren't. I don't know any seven year olds.

"Well." I smacked my lips. "No goin back now, huh?"

I could sorta see Steve shake his head. "We're going forward, full steam ahead," he said bitterly. "But I'm still stuck here."

Seems everyone hated it here, which I got. But I also knew what Steve was gettin at, how he couldn't go with Sodapop to 'Nam. And it was killin him.

"I know you... Wanted to go," I said, for lack of something better to say.

"I just wanted to make sure he was safe," Steve whispered.

Safe. No guy under forty was safe. Time were changin, and sometimes it wasn't for the better, I've realized.

"So why wouldn't they let you go? And don't tell me flat feet- we both know that's bullshit."

Steve grinned, and then he shook his head slowly, like he just didn't get me. Which I don't think he does. Then again, I don't quite get him either. But that doesn't mean I don't give a hang about him. Steve's my pal, has been since I met Darry then Soda then him. I don't think it's out of the question for me to be worried about one of my buddies.

"It is," Steve sighed. "And it's what I told Sodapop, too. Didn't wanna worry him." Steve cleared his throat. "See, it's- it kinda has something to do with my job."

"Don't tell me a car fell on ya, Stevie," I joked. I saw him shake his head again.

"No, dumbass. It's somethin else. See, all the paint, the fumes- hell, the smokes- they fucked up my lungs, man. They said if I don't wanna land myself with any transplants, I'm gonna have to quit working at the DX."

Steve shrugged like it was no big deal, but I knew it was. My mouth hung open, and as I watched him, I realized how much that was gonna hurt him. If I could say one really positive thing about Steve, it would be that he could fix anything on wheels, and has for me more times than I can count. And now, it's been taken away from him. I gave him a sad smile.

"Welup, that's pretty shitty, compadre," I sighed. Then I let my face get serious. "I'm sorry, Steve."

"I know it is," he said softly. "I really know it is. I just can't believe it. I don't know what I'mma do now. Hell, what's Soda gonna do when he comes back? We can't work together anymore."

He was fightin himself, trying to figure it all out. If I weren't stuck behind this damned couch, I could've hugged him. But he probably wouldn't've liked it, and I can't remember the last time I hugged the guy. Maybe never.

"You'll figure it out," I told him. "You got a way of doin that."

"Yeah, I guess so."

But his heart wasn't really in it.

Darry and Ponyboy came back with Darry's tools, and all talk of shitty lungs and the future were forgotten for awhile, and we went to work on taking apart this godforsaken couch. It took some work, and some bitching, but we eventually got it apart and into the apartment.

And then there was the matter of getting it back together.

The four of examined the mess we had made, knowing the bed frame was in pieces in the bedroom, and now the couch was in twenty different places across the living room. My new place wasn't off to a much better start than the old one.

"Well," Darry sighed. "What should we do about it?"

We all looked at each other. Then we all looked back at the pieces of couch. I cleared my throat.

"We could get some pizza, fresh air," I suggested.

"I could go for that," Pony shrugged, giving his consent.

So we all filed out, but Steve grabbed me by the shoulder before I could catch up with Things One and Two.

"Fresh air?" He quipped, smirking. I shoved him around a bit.

"Yeah, man. C'mon, let's get the hell outta here."

XXXXX

The first night there was quiet and dark and I just couldn't believe that I could ever get used to it. Just because the couch had finally been put together doesn't mean it felt like home or anything like that. I just felt sorta lonely, and I ached for all the people who just aren't _here_ anymore.

XXXXX

"Okay. For ten dollars, I'll drink this much of anything."

Pony gestured with his fingers how much he was willing to drink. It wasn't a lot, but I was willing to go with it. We were bored, so we were sitting at his kitchen table, betting on which of us could drink the most disgusting thing before either of us hurled. Hopefully, we wouldn't barf all over Dar's kitchen, but he wasn't home at the moment. We could probably manage to clean up any messes we made. I looked at Pony and nodded.

"Fair deal," I said. "But, you gotta close your eyes and cover yer ears."

He nodded, then squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears. And then he started humming.

"But it has to be edible," Pony amended. "It can't be anything that could potentially kill me."

I took the lid off the blender. "So, nothing from the bathroom?"

"Nope."

"Laundry room?"

"No."

"And prolly nothing from the garage, either?"

"Nup. Only thing worse than Darry finding a mess in the kitchen is finding his brother dead in the kitchen."

"Alright then. Now shuddup! Leave me to my work!"

Pony shook his head, but he shut up as I dumped mustard, vinegar, soy sauce, salt, A1 sauce, a couple cracked eggs, and some other assorted nasty things in the blender and mixed them up, watching as they got all blended. Pony was still humming with his eyes closed, wonderfully oblivious to what he was going to be hit with. I dumped the concoction in a glass.

"Open up and drink up, pal!" I cried, watching as he wearily eyed the glass. He shot a tired glance up at me.

"Lemme see the money," he said. I pulled two fives out of my pocket and laid them on the table.

"You've seen the money- now you gotta earn it," I said pointedly, grinning at him. Pony shook his head and sighed.

"Wish me luck," he muttered. Then he picked up the glass, put it up to his mouth, and drank.

I watched eagerly to see his reaction. He set down the glass, looking off into the distance like he was thinking real hard. Pony smacked his lips.

"Sodapop's cooking is worse," he surmised. "Hell, I could prolly drink more."

I sat down across from him, astounded. And disgusted. And impressed. And a lot of other things. Most importantly, I'd lost ten dollars.

"You suck," I told him. "You robbed me of ten dollars, man. I'm really upset with you right now."

"No you're not," he grinned. "You're just being wise."

I shrugged. So maybe I was.

"Well, since we don't have anything else to do-"

"We could clean up the kitchen."

"Naw. Anyway, we ain't got nothing else to do. So what now?"

We sat in deep thought. I didn't know what to do with the rest of the day. Some day off this was turning out to be. I was about to suggest we play Monopoly when Pony came up with an even better! idea.

"Remember that record store?"

Pony eyed me. Waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I remember." I shrugged. "Why?"

"I was thinkin maybe we could go this afternoon."

He looked at me hopefully. Hope radiated off him. In waves. Waves! I could feel it hitting me in the face.

"Why?" I asked again. Stringin him right along.

"Because I just want to," he said. "That's all. I like music, I want new records, they sell them there. How hard is that to comprehend?"

I shrugged. "It ain't. C'mon, let's go."

We raced out to the truck, and I shoved him out of the way so I could hop in first. He flipped me the bird, but he wasn't mad. I knew because the drive over was fun and I felt light and happy. Best feeling right there. Like I was floating.

The store was in the same place where we left it, and the same girl, Rose, I think her name is, was manning the register again. She smiled when she saw us.

"Hey!" She called. "Long time no see, huh?"

I walked up to the counter. "So it has been!" I greeted. Pony followed me and stood beside me, leaning on the counter. Rose watched him.

"You're Pony Curtis, aren't you?" She asked him suddenly. Pony nodded.

"Yeah, that's me. Lemme guess- you saw my name in the paper?"

Rose had the decency to look kinda embarrassed. I cut my eyes from him to her, her to him. Funny thing is, Ponyboy didn't look so upset by it. Not like usual. Looks like Rose and Jack might be the only two he could deal with asking.

"Well, yeah," Rose drawled. "I didn't mean anything by it, I just-"

"It's okay," Pony interrupted. "Really, it's fine. I just get it a lot."

She smiled. "Well, what hero wouldn't?"

That made him grin. I didn't know being called hero was such a compliment for him anymore.

"I guess you're right." Ponyboy looked around. "So. Whaddya like, Rose?"

She cut her eyes to mine. I cocked an eyebrow and smiled.

"What music do I like?" She asked. Pony nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I need some recommendations."

Hook, line, and sinker. Get her talking about her interests, and she'll open up. Old trick, but a goodie. Different from my last tactic, which was to get the gal to hate me. And lookie how that turned out!

The two of them talked awhile, and that's the story of how Ponyboy ended up spending a lot of money on S&G and Rolling Stones' albums. She put them all in a bag for him, saying she'd like to know what he thought of them sometime. He told her he'd tell her next time he came in.

Next time!

I could hardly contain myself as we left the store.

"Hell, kid. Didn't know you could play it that well!" I laughed. "Shit, I'd say you got it pretty damn bad."

"I don't!" He insisted. "Two-Bit, ain't you ever heard of being just friends with a girl before?"

I shook my head. "That ain't how it work, Ponykid, and you know it," I said. "Everything else always gets in the way."

He glared at me. "For you it does. You mean everything else gets in the way when it comes to you. My mind isn't always in the gutter like yours is."

I held up my hands in surrender an said, "And mine ain't either. All I'm saying is that eventually, you'll want more."

"There a loophole to that?"

"I'm afraid not, my friend. Believe me, I tried."

Pony knew what I was talking about. I tried being friends with Bridget, but that didn't work out for either of us. I couldn't pretend to hate her, couldn't deal with being just friends, and I couldn't quit seeing her, so here I am.

"Well. Maybe I'll just prove you wrong."

Pony had made his decision and these days, there didn't seem to be anything to keep him from sticking by them.

XXXXX

Mr. Pendleton had me out in the actual store today, not the back room. We were a bit shorthanded. Jack would probably still find me, like he usually does. It was pretty much the same job, just I was doing it in front of everybody. People were constantly asking me to get things down for them, including a blonde with perky tits and a nice smile. I talked to her real nice, I guess, 'cuz she slipped me a number.

And I actually threw it away.

Fidelity is now practically ingrained in me.

No. But that's a good thing. It's a real good thing. If everything around me is wrong-from my lameish job to never-ending stress-then she's one-hundred percent right. She's my perfect constant and I won't do a thing that would get rid of her. I'm determined to keep Bridget. Bound and determined. I've never wanted anything so bad in my life. So, in order to accomplish such a thing, I was stocking shelves in the canned goods aisle. I needed a better job, but there was one thing keeping me here: Jack.

Honestly, if it went for him, I'd leave. I felt bad because he didn't have a lot of friends, and he'd told me his parents were talking about pulling him out of school for awhile. He said it like he didn't care, but I could tell he did. If no one else would be there for him, I would be.

As I was restocking cans of cranberry sauce (the holiday season is truly upon us now!) I saw someone else I knew... A bit. Bridget was pretty insistent on my meeting him, unlike with her first boy, and her dad was cool enough, but I'm not so sure what he thought of me. If anything, he just seemed indifferent. At least he didn't hate me. But there was Thom Stevens, walking around with Miz Viviane. I could've laughed out loud. I grinned, leaving what I was doing and making my way over to them.

"'Ey, Mr. Stevens!"

He looked up at me, looked halfway surprised, and relaxed his shoulders. Yeah, he knew me. He knew me real good. Miz Viviane was smiling next to him, watching him. She knew me some, too, but not so well.

"Keith," he grinned. "How are you?" He asked.

I shrugged happily. "Not so bad, sir. Things are mostly pretty good."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said. "Bridget wrote me, says you were keeping yourself busy."

I nodded, actually feeling pretty proud of myself. "Yessir. Bought myself a new place and all that. That kept me pretty busy. Bee tells me that Miz Viviane moved in?"

They looked taken aback when I said that. Maybe because I'd said Bee, not Bridget. Funny, everyone else in town calls her Bee Stevens except them. Looks like they haven't caught on. I hear it from everyone when they ask about her, heard it when she was still here. What started out as something negative turned out pretty good, huh?

"I did," Viviane grinned. "Thank you for asking."

I grinned. "No problem ma'am."

Thom cleared his throat. "I do have something to ask you, Keith," he said.

I was wary, thinking he might ask something about my job or something.

"What's that, Mr. Stevens?" I asked.

"Would you mind picking Bridget up from the bus station when she comes home? Neither of us will be available."

That was a dangerous question. I couldn't answer too enthusiastically because that might make him suspicious. Make him think I had plans for his daughter- which I do. I had to play it cool.

"No problem, sir," I said simply. "I'd love to."

Alright, I don't think that was too forward. Right? Thom smiled, so I think I'm in the clear.

"That's wonderful," Viv gushed. "We're both so busy, I'm glad you can do it."

Couldn't they make time? I just shrugged, to myself and them. "Like I said, no problem."

"Well, thank you," Thom said, and they left. I scowled, going back to work.

"What was that about?"

I turned around and saw Jack. I grinned.

"Nothin, kid," I told him. "Just my love life."

"Well, who was that?" Jack asked. I looked down at him.

"My girlfriend's dad," I told him. Jack laughed.

"Shoot, man. What happened?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Nothin happened."

"Yeah, it did. They know you screw their daughter, don't they?"

I turned red. I didn't bother to correct him that Viviane wasn't her ma yet, but still. I didn't want to talk about my sex life. Or maybe I did. Yeah, I did.

"They don't," I insisted. "My friends do, and that's it."

"Nuh-uh. They know."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Do not!"

Everyone in our aisle turned to look at us. I swallowed hard.

"They don't," I said through my teeth. Jack rolled my eyes. I broke.

"Fine," I sighed. "They prolly do."

"Knew it!" Jack claimed. I placed more cans on the shelf.

"But that's not what we talked about," I told him. "He asked me to pick up his daughter from the bus station when she comes home next week."

"Ooh," Jack drawled. "Salty, ain't it?" I laughed.

"You bet! Hell, think she'll wanna stay over at my place?"

I was actually thinking about that, how the bed was big enough for the two of us and I had more than enough space for our stuff.

"I wouldn't want to," Jack shrugged. "But I ain't her. It's her choice."

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. "Jack Pendleton, you know nothin 'bout women."

"How could I? I ain't even kissed one!"

I almost said something back, some sort of pissy retort, but instead, that gave me an idea.

I'd just have to wait for the exact right time.

XXXXX

**AN: So if you've noticed, each chapter is titled after either a Shakespearean play or a Simon and Garfunkel song. There's a reason for this, but I'm letting you all know, as well as also making this a sort of second disclaimer.**

**Pardon typos. While you're here, maybe drop a review, some feedback, criticism, witticism... What have you. Reviews are my drug, basically. ;)**


	5. The Tempest

**Author's Note: Hey all! Next chapter.**

**Thanks for the love and feedback last chapter! Make sure to keep up faving, following, and leaving feedback. Makes my day to see that you guys are reading.**

**Happy reading. :)**

XXXXX

"_We are such stuff as dreams are made on, rounded with a little sleep"_

_-The Tempest, William Shakespeare_

XXXXX

I think I missed her laugh a lot. It wasn't just touching her that I missed, it was hearing her voice and laugh and all that. Seems I can do it pretty easy. Make her laugh, I mean. When I have a cold, I can do a pretty great impression of Bob Dylan that just cracks her up.

'_Shakespeare's in the alley, with his pointed shoes and his bells, speaking with some French girl, who says she knows me well.'_

She'll shake her head at me, but she'll be laughing, too, and eventually I'll be laughing and incapable of going on.

XXXXX

When I went to pick her up, it was raining. Raining cats and dogs. I entertained the idea of just letting her come and find my car, but that just ended up sounding like a shitty thing to do. So I swiped an umbrella and waited for her to come off her bus. I stood alone for a long while, waiting for her to show up. The rain just kept coming down, coming down hard, and the umbrella wasn't doing me much good, if you know what I mean. I wanted it to stop because it was such a good day, but I just decided to do my best to ignore it.

The bus, once it finally came and my shoes were waterlogged, screeched to a halt in front of me, and I just hung back. I didn't want to rush anybody. I wanted her to be the first one off, but she wasn't, so I figured she'd be last. Like in the movies. But then she stepped off right in the middle of them all.

"Hey, Two-Bit," she grinned, holding her suitcase and ducking down under the umbrella with me. "Long time no see, pal."

My mouth hung open. She looked different. She looked tireder, like she was staying up late, but she looked really happy. And that made me really happy to see.

"You're telling me!" I laughed. Hell- what was I thinking? Kiss her, Two-Bit.

I wrapped my free arm around her, pulling her to me and hanging on for dear life. I needed her more than I knew. And I kissed her for a long time.

"Don't you dare ever leave me again, Bee Stevens." I laughed, running a hand through her hair. She shook her head.

"I wouldn't if I didn't have to," she said. "But I'm here now, aren't I?"

That was true. She was there, looking at me and smiling and maybe even more beautiful than before because she had been gone. Because she was better than I remembered. And I can't believe that she's here, that a couple years ago she came here and sat in front of me. I missed her.

"You are," I grinned, reminding myself to breath. "C'mon, let's get the hell outta here, huh?"

It wasn't like my car was that far away, but everything seems further away when it rains. I helped her into her side and then got in myself. We were both running hands through our hair and shaking ourselves out.

"Should I drop you off at home?" I asked. I glanced over at her, not quite sure what she was going to say.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "There's so many people to see... And I'm with you right now..."

She trailed off, shrugging at me.

"Is my dad home?" She asked. I shook my head no.

"Then that settles it," Bee declared. "Take me to your place."

I laughed, punching the gas and driving off towards the middle. That's what I've been calling it- the middle. Because that's all that it is! I'm right in between where the socs and greasers used to consider their borders to be, where there was either a fair game or a hands-off rule back when we were kids. But no more. The hippies cleared that right out.

And I'm pretty sure one's in my car right now.

"You look like someone straight off Haight-Ashbury," I laughed. "I mean, lookit you."

Bridget didn't seem to appreciate my observation too much. In fact, she rolled her eyes, thinkin I couldn't see, and sighed.

"This is what everyone looks like," she said. "Everyone dresses like this."

"You see me dressin like that?" I asked. "No sir, you don't. And my name ain't Everyone, so it looks like you might be wrong on this one."

"Straight off Haight," she mused, disregarding what I'd said. "Were you going for that?"

"Going for what?"

"The rhyme. Were you trying to rhyme them?"

I shook my head slowly, wondering why she'd even ask something like that. Maybe it was a music thing, or something she learned about at college. Maybe.

"Anyway," Bee drawled. "When is my dad supposed to be home?"

"I'm not sure," I mumbled, trying to drive and think and look at her all at the same time. It wasn't working so well.

"I have an idea then."

"What's that?"

It was decided that we'd lie. I would call Thom saying that the weather was too bad for her plane to come in, and I'd grab her when it did the next day. So, once we got to my place and while she was in the shower, I dialed their house number and did my best to sell the lie.

It was a sorta complicated conversation. I had to "explain" about a billion times that the weather had prevented Bridget's return, and I'd have to pick her up tomorrow. And he's s'posed to be smart.

"Aw, I'm real sorry, Thom. The rain just kept the plane from comin in. Tomorrow, I'll pick her up tomorrow. Then I can bring her home."

He seemed to think that sounded okay, so, pleased as peaches that he bought it, I hung up the phone. It was quiet, except for the shower running. I could also hear someone singing 'Moon River,' and there was only one other person in the house. So I listened in for awhile, which pretty much consisted of me sitting against the wall just beside the door. I tapped my hands on my knees, completely off beat. I heard the knob on the shower squeak and her feet hitting the bathroom tile. Pulled down a towel. Wrapped it around herself. Opened the door and looked down at me.

"What're you doing?" She asked.

"Were you singing?" I asked, ignoring her question. Bridget looked at me strangely.

"Yes," she said slowly. "I was. So?"

"So," I said. "You're good, and I just thought you'd might like to know that."

"Oh. Well. Thanks, Two-Bit. I'm pretty sure you've told me that before."

Bridget started wandering around, poking her nose in my stuff, looking through my records and running her fingers along the back of that damned couch. She kept pulling the towel tighter around her to keep it from falling, but that's all I wanted. I could see the curve of her ass through it, but I wouldn't be completely happy until that towel was pooled around her feet, if ya know what I mean.

"Maybe we should do something?" Bee said suddenly, like it was a question. "We could go out. Maybe grab a drink or something."

"I have drinks here," I shrugged. "We don't have to go anywhere."

She looked over at me slowly. I was reminded of the beginning of summer, when all I wanted was to get out, and all she wanted was to stay in. And Bridget was catching on.

"What're you saying, Two-Bit?"

"I'm saying, I kinda wanna have sex."

Bridget didn't look as though she knew what to do with that particular bit of info. I don't see what was so confusing; I told her point blank what I wanted. I figured she'd want it too!

"Well-"

"Well nothin. You sayin you can practically do what I just did and I have to give it to you, but you won't reciprocate?"

Bridget actually laughed at me, pulling her towel tighter around her.

"I can't believe you!" She cried, still laughing. Like a little school girl. "Hell, Two-Bit, I'll do it. Just don't be so blunt next time, huh?"

I stared at her, in all her glory, watching as she stared down at the carpet instead of me, at the wall instead of me, out the window instead of me. She was driving me nuts.

"Lose the towel," I demanded, and I've never seen her do anything faster.

XXXXX

I slept for so long. And it felt good. Real good. Dallas and I once had an interesting conversation about what it's like to sleep after doing it, and we both came to the same conclusion: that it's about the damn easiest thing to do. I just kinda sink into the mattress and drift off, out like a light.

_There's a portrait of the president and the secretary of war hanging on the wall. Darry, Steve, Ponyboy, Dallas, Johnny, and Sodapop are sitting around the same table. Still smoking, their sleeves still rolled up and their ties still loose around their necks. But they're quiet now, like they've got nothing else to say. About anything. The smoke curls around in a thick cloud, and the windows reveal a dark and stormy sky. Lightning flashes. It's hot, hotter than it's been in months, and it's just the perfect storm. Thunder rolls._

_"Shit's about to hit the fan," Darry sighs._

_He smears a hand down his face, those clunky glasses that only show up here bob up and down for a split second, and then he fixes them to his face. He looks as tired as he does in real life._

_"It is," Steve agrees. He nods to the secretary of war. "It's his own damn fault."_

_"Hell, blame the goddamn chief, too," Pony scoffs. "He's keeping us over there as much as the other."_

_Dallas takes a drag on his cigarette and blows perfect smoke rings in front of him. In his icy tone, he says, "Hell, boys. We all know this goes back further than this'un. Further back than the last one and the one before that. We know, and they know, and we can't do a damn - thing to stop them."_

_Thunder roared and the lights flickered. It outlined everyone's face in an eerie way, like they were spooks or something. Dallas leaned back in his chair and started smoking again._

_"It's true," Darry sighed. "Didn't know this job would be so damn hard when I got it."_

_"Did any of us?" Ponyboy mumbled. Almost so slurred you could hardly hear him._

_"This ain't Camelot, boys," Steve drawled, dragging on his weed. "We ain't expected to be knights of the Round Table."_

_"It'd be easier if we were," Darry mused. "Take care of 'em ourselves, instead of sending more and more over to do it."_

_Pony shook his head. "Not that easy. We need thousands to take on thousands." He paused. "Makes me wish this were Camelot."_

_Darry laughed lightly. "Even Camelot fell. But- yeah. I get what you mean. Who'd y'all rather serve- Arthur or Johnson?"_

_A resounding chorus of 'Arthur!' rang through the room, and they all laughed_.

My eyes popped open. It was another one of those dreams. The ones where we're all... What? What do you call people who help the president? I don't rightfully know. I ran a hand down my face and checked the time: twelve-thirty. It was raining.

"Why're you awake?"

I turned my head, and I saw Bridget propped up on her elbow and looking down at me. I raised an eyebrow.

"I could ask you the same thing," I parried. "Just one of those dreams again. Where everyone's dressed like they work at Cape Kennedy and they sit in some big office in Washington or something. Wild, right?"

She hummed. "Sure seems wild. What happened in this one?"

I shrugged. "Oh, not much. More talking about... I dunno, shit hitting the fan and... Jeeze, I hardly know now."

"No one usually remembers their dreams," Bee whispered. I shut my eyes.

"Why do you think that is?" I wondered, not expecting an answer. But I got one anyway.

"Maybe it's because we shouldn't be hanging on to what isn't real."

It was a sleepy answer, and it made sense to me in a sleepy way. Those sort of things will never happen. Everyone's talking too smart for it to. Since when would Steve know anything about Camelot? And I don't know anything about it, except that one play that Bridget told me about. With Julie Andrews in it. Yeah, that.

XXXXX

I looked at myself in the mirror above the dresser. I looked tired, but I hadn't felt this good in a long time. Guess I just needed a little TLC to get me back in gear. I smirked at the lump still lying in bed, body rising and falling with each breath. God, last night... Man! How could I not've known earlier that the best way for me to feel better was to have her here with me? Well, it don't matter now. She's here, and that's what matters. I walked over to her side of the bed and kissed her forehead, then beat it out of there.

I made my way to Pendleton's, humming along to the Doors and the Rolling Stones and actually driving carefully. Bee says my driving is for shit when it comes to the actual rules of the road, so I figger I could do better for her while she's here.

"The hell you two doing here?"

Pony and Jack looked up from whatever they were hunched over and waved me over. I stood over them and raised an eyebrow.

"You gon' answer me?" I asked. Ponyboy grinned.

"Yeah, sure, Two-Bit. We're just hangin around back here, reading 'Lord of the Rings.' And you?"

I snorted. "Working! And ain't that a nerd book?"

Jack looked at me with defiance. "Just 'cuz you can't read Two-Bit don't mean you should put us down. It isn't a nerd book."

"What's that even mean?" Pony asked. "Nerd book. Sounds like somethin a kid would say. Huh? Don't it, Jack?"

"Sure does!" He agreed, in a voice three times his size. Pony adjusted his transistor radio.

"Hey, the Doors!" He cried.

"They play this song all the time, kid. Why so excited?"

"I love the Doors. How could you not love the Doors, Two-Bit? What's wrong with you? You stupid or somethin?"

I wrapped him up in headlock and tackled him to the ground. "Say uncle, boy!"

"Nup!"

We wrestled for a bit, trying to get the other to give in. I got him pretty tied up, and Jack was cheering the two of us on gave me something to work off of.

"Okay, Two-Bit, okay! Let up, man!"

I let up, laughing at him and tussling his hair. "Maybe someday, kid. Maybe someday."

Pony stuck his tongue out at me. "You're in an unusually positive mood, considering all the bullshit you've convinced yourself of. You get laid?"

I glanced at Jack, who obviously had nothing to contribute to the conversation. I shook my head.

"Who wants to know?" I asked, shoving his shoulder. Pony flipped over onto his stomach.

"I do," he proclaimed. "Tell me, did Bridget give you some?"

"Your girlfriend?"

Pony and I left our own little conversation and looked at him. "Yeah, the same," I said.

"Wait- so she's here? In town?" Jack asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, she is. Why?"

"You promised me I could meet her."

Oh. Right. Forgot about that. Funny, I meant it when I said he could, but I was having second thoughts now for some reason. I don't what it is or why, but something didn't feel right about it.

"Soon," I told him. "Real soon. I'm taking her over to her dad's after my shift, so not now. But soon."

I started to wonder how soon might need to come sooner for him. Soon to me may be an eternity for him because there just might not be enough time. I've been thinking more and more about that, and it's just a lot to take in.

XXXXX

_Darry and Pony,_

_Well, have I got a surprise for you! Turns out I have a day of leave before I get shipped out so you better believe I'm getting on a bus and coming up to see ya. It's gonna be great. I get shipped out the first week of December so it's gonna be great to see you guys one last time before I leave. I know that sounds kinda scary, but it's ok. I promise. Things'll be just fine don't worry about me. I did some math and figured that I should be home for good just before Christmas, 1970. Won't I make a great present? Just slap a bow on me and call it a night._

_Say hi to the guys for me. I'll be there soon as I can._

_Love you guys,_

_Soda_

Darry threw the letter down on the table and stared at it for a good long time. Nobody else was there except the two of us, and it was quiet. Darry slowly shook his head.

"One last time, huh?" He whispered. I pulled on the frayed edges of a pillow.

"Don't think of it like that." I shrugged. "You know Soda; he'll be fine. We both know that."

Darry sighed. "No, we don't. We don't know that at all. I shoulda sent him to Canada."

"Hell, Dar. Send him, might as well send the rest of us."

I'm pretty sure becoming an expat would be frowned upon and anyone who does leave is pretty much viewed as a pussy. And then there's burning your draft notice, which I'm pretty sure is something Ponyboy would do, or you could succumb. There just aren't a lot of options when it comes to war.

"You'll be able to see 'im," I reminded him. "We all will."

Darry laughed like it was funny, when we both knew that it wasn't. We both knew it was a crock, that it just wasn't right, just wasn't. Just wasn't. Just wasn't... What? Just wasn't what?

"One last time," he repeated. "God, I just couldn't stand it if that's true."

XXXXX

**AN: Pardon typos. Reviews are greatly appreciated. :)**


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